


There's a Spark

by MostFacinorous



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Birthday Presents, Fireworks, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Possibly Pre-Slash, magical healing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 14:27:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4266657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MostFacinorous/pseuds/MostFacinorous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki's setting the sky alight, and Steve really was hoping for a nice, calm, quiet birthday.<br/>So much for that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Loki'd been on Earth for a couple of years, now.

Or at least, he'd been regularly causing havoc on Earth-- usually in New York-- for that long. That wasn't the same thing, necessarily, Steve realized. Not when even Asgard couldn't lock him up or shut down his abilities to travel.

It'd been odd though, the way things had sort of tapered off on his end. He hadn't killed anyone in over a year. Hadn't made any grand demonstrations of power, forced people to kneel or sing his praises-- less ego mania, less appearances overall.

Heck, the last time they'd seen him, he'd shown up in the Avengers' living room with a box of kittens.

Mind you, those had all been high level mob bosses before they were kittens, but the point remained. The guy wasn't exactly pulling big schemes these days.

There was a bet going on-- mostly Tony, to be fair-- about how long before he unveiled some great big to do, that he'd been building up to all this time. Tony figured Loki was just lulling them into a false sense of security. Steve kinda thought maybe the guy was just tired. 

He'd seemed tired, before he'd disappeared-- right before the tone of their meetings had changed.

He remembered chasing him down, catching up to him on the same stones in the park where they'd sent him back to Asgard with Thor, both of them out of breath and staring at the other, daring the other to make the first move. And Loki had just smiled and spread his arms, welcoming a blow. 

And Steve had sat down his shield.

He remembered, too, the way his chest had clenched when Loki just looked confused, maybe a little lost, but very definitely surprised when Steve wasn't making a move towards hurting him.

Since then, Steve had gotten the distinct impression Loki was  _ watching  _ him, though he wasn't sure why. Waiting for him to slip up, he'd supposed, but then, even when he was sloppy, tired and not guarding himself as well as he should, Loki didn't take the openings. Didn't hurt him. 

And wasn't subtle about it.

There was one night when they had all returned to the tower, Bruce and the Hulk both bruised, Clint clutching at his broken fingers, Natasha holding her head that was likely concussed, and Tony-- they'd had to pull Tony out of the suit with a crowbar that night. Thor they didn't see for a few days, as he made his way back from whatever dimension Loki had thrown him into.

But Steve had remained unharmed. Untouched. Not a spell or even a slap.

So of course, it was a surprise to him now that Loki was standing atop the tower, grinning at him like a mad man while a thousand green explosions echoed from the middle of the city.

The others were trying to fight their way past the walls that Loki had erected, trying to get to where all the explosions were happening, but according to the frustrated voices in his ear via the comms, they weren't having much luck.

“Loki! What's going on?” He demanded, and the god looked surprised, the smile falling off of his face while he tilted his head. 

His eyebrows pinched together and he turned to look out behind him, at his handiwork.

“I was under the impression that this was what was supposed to happen.” He said shortly when he turned back, an eyebrow raised, though Steve couldn't tell if he was asking or teasing or challenging.

“What?” He asked, already tired of the game. If they were going to fight, if they were going back to that, he just wanted to get it over with. 

Steve had been looking forward to-- 

\--well it didn't matter now. That wasn't what happening.

“Is it the color?” Loki asked, gesturing, so that the color of the explosions shifted, from green to red and blue. Over the sound of confusion in his communicator, Steve's mind shuddered, rolled over, and caught up.

“Loki, are you trying to make  _ fireworks _ ?” He wasn't sure what emotion was hiding behind his disbelief, but whatever it had been dissipated when he saw the way Loki drew himself up and back, posture shifting into something much more distant. 

And Steve hadn't even realized until then that he'd been at ease.

“I am not  _ trying  _ to do anything,” Loki spat, and Steve slid his shield into its holder on his back and raised his hands, trying to placate the guy.

“Why don't you tell me--” He started, but Loki took two angry steps forward.

“I don't have to explain  _ anything _ to  _ you _ .” He was snarling his words now, and Steve knew he'd screwed up somehow. Loki was doing that thing, where he prepared to open a hole and step through, to run away. Steve didn't know if the explosions would stop if he did, but more importantly, he knew whatever half-truce he'd managed to make the last time he'd interacted with Loki would leave with him unless he could fix it.

“Then let me explain-- do you know what the fireworks are for?” He asked, and Loki stopped, his hands stilling halfway through their motions.

The disturbance in the air beside him stilled and then dissipated, and Loki seemed subdued when he turned his eyes back to the explosions.

“They are for your birthday, are they not?” He sounded arch, but from where Steve was standing, with his shoulders sloped, he looked sort of defeated.

“They're-- no, wait are  _ yours _ ?” Steve thought his stomach might have turned to concrete.

They had no way of knowing how many people were being hurt-- incinerated-- no way of getting to them-- and Loki had done it because--

Steve was going to be sick. He sat down hard.

“You don't like them.” Loki's voice was flat.

“ _ No _ .” Steve knew he sounded strangled, but to be honest he was having a hard time breathing. He watched as Loki raised a hand and clenched it into a fist, and the brightness that had been going on for at least half an hour straight was suddenly extinguished.

“I am sorry.” Loki said, mournful and oddly stiff, formal. He turned a little towards Steve, then seemed to think better of it and opened his portal, and stepped away.

“Walls are down.” Natasha reported in his ear. Steve squeezed the push to talk button in his glove.

“Loki's gone. Let's find those injured, and figure out what sort of damages we're looking at.” He let go of the button and buried his face in his hands, the pads of his gloves rough against his face.

He would go down, he would help. But first he needed to take a deep breath and think about what it meant that Loki had been doing this for him. The silence, the lack of light, it was ringing in his ears and pulsing in his eyes.

“Cap?” Tony's voice broke in, and Steve lumbered to his feet before answering.

“I'm on my way.” He assured them.

“No need.” Tony sounded perplexed-- an interesting sound, from the guy who figured he knew everything.

“Come again?” Steve said dumbly.

“No damage. No casualties.” Natasha's voice broke in, strong and certain enough that he didn't question it.

“Fucking magic.” Barton grumbled. 

 

And that was it. 

 

As Steve looked out at the city, more confused now than before, but able to breathe again, his heart seized for a second when a screech sounded, followed by a flash of light and the sound of a crackling explosion-- but it wasn't green, the way Loki's had been, or even the blue and red he had changed them to.

It was gold, a real firework, and he couldn't begrudge the people that. After all, it was the Fourth of July, and they probably should be celebrating. After all, no one was hurt, nothing needed repair--

He just didn't know why he felt so rotten, instead. 

\---

 

For once, Steve was glad when Thor burst through the elevator doors, eager to question him about Loki. Steve had a few of his own questions as well.

The team joined them as soon as they had changed out of their emergency gear, and Steve found himself surrounded by friends, a beer in hand and a cake on the coffee table, talking about magical pseudo-fireworks. It felt surreal. But no more, he supposed, than the part of his day on the roof had been.

“To celebrate your birth?” Thor repeated thoughtfully. He sounded glad, though, hopeful. As if Steve had given him good news. “That would explain then why he was keeping people away-- he knew you would not be pleased if he harmed any in an attempt to honor you.

“Also explains the location. If you had looked out the window of your room, you would have had probably the best view in the city.” Bruce added. Tony had his lips pursed and his brows scrunched together, as though he was trying to work out some complex tangle.

Loki was that, Steve supposed.

“Seems to me you had pretty good seating where you were-- right next to the guy lighting up the sky for you. So, what'd you say to him?” Natasha definitely sounded like she was teasing. Like she thought this was funny somehow.

“I--” This was the part Steve wasn't sure how to talk about. “I didn't know no one was-- I still thought people were dying. And--”

It got quiet, no one moving or saying anything.

Steve swallowed.

“I didn't say much. I just asked him if he knew why we had fireworks and he said for my birthday, and I got queasy.” Clint patted his shoulder sympathetically and Steve nodded his thanks. “He just said, 'You don't like them.' and I said No, and he...stopped it, and left.” That didn't properly explain the way Loki had looked, or sounded. The way Steve's chest had constricted and his stomach grown heavy, the way it felt like he was freezing inside.

“Ah.” Thor sounded troubled. “I think... you will find that one of two things will happen.”

Natasha arched her brow at him, and Tony gestured for him to continue, circling his beer in the air.

“Either Loki will hide for some time-- perhaps even refuse to come near you again from humiliation, or he will be here many more times before the night is over, attempting to bring consolation gifts to make things right.”

Steve let out his air harshly.

“At this point, I don't even know which of those to hope for. I mean, I feel bad, but.”

“But not badly enough to wish my brother upon yourself.” Thor finished for him, nodding in sympathetic understanding.

Steve had to stand, suddenly, and ended up pacing a few feet between the couches, moving to stand with his back to the television, facing the rest.

“No, it's not that, it's just-- if I humiliated him like you say, who knows what he might do to try and one up himself? If explosions was plan A, what is plan B going to look like?” 

Understanding and horror passed over the faces of his companions, and Steve inhaled, steadying himself.

“I think I need to find Loki.” He said grimly, and Tony shook his head and leaned forward, arms resting on his knees and the beer bottle dangling between his legs in one hand, the very picture of concentration.

“I think you need to figure out  _ why _ Loki wanted to celebrate in the first place. This is about honoring you, right? But why?” He just seemed ponderous, not even teasing, and Steve felt his face getting hot, knowing there was no real reason for it.

“Yeah, seriously. If anything, I deserve to be celebrated. You're not the one whose brainmeat he got his sticky fingerprints all over.” Clint was trying to make light of it, Steve knew, but it just made him wince.

It was bad enough someone trying to make a grand gesture like that, but having that someone be  _ Loki _ , being reminded of what that someone had done, to their city, their friends...

“Perhaps you may ask him yourself.” Thor said, standing, and crossing to the window. “It seems it did not take him long to lick his wounds and come up with an alternative gift.”

Steve groaned, moving to stand beside Thor to see what he was talking about.

Loki was outside the window, in midair.

Only, not-- in midair, per se, or... not on nothing, at least.

“Are you kidding me? Where do you even  _ get  _ a magic carpet?” Tony sounded scandalized, and Natasha laughed, the sound like a glass breaking, delicate and sharp.

“If you get on that thing, he is gonna show you a whole new world.” She said it so dryly that Steve didn't know what she meant, until Tony, Bruce, and Clint all cracked knowing smiles. 

A reference, then.

Peachy.

“I'm going out to the roof. Maybe-- just don't shoot him down unless I call for help, okay?”

He was still in his uniform, and he knew that the comm system was run through JARVIS. They'd be able to hear if he needed them. And, he had a feeling, even if they didn't. He couldn't imagine any of the Avengers passing up the chance to eavesdrop on this one.

 

So that was how he found himself standing outside, on a roof, with Loki, for the second time that day.

“I thought you might like a means of flying yourself in and out of situations.” Loki said without preamble, having risen to meet him. He held out the carpet, rolled into a neat and convenient bundle in his hands. 

“I know it must be bothersome to you that you cannot always arrive as quickly as your fellows.”

And Steve had to give it to him that that was thoughtful, but...

“Where'd you get it from?” He asked, mind still on the other thing Tony had said, and he realized that he had blurted those words trying to keep from saying something else-- from demanding to know  _ why _ .

Loki stiffened again, and Steve stepped forward, before he screwed  _ this _ up, too. 

He put his hands around the gift, not taking it, but not letting go, either-- holding Loki there.

“Sorry, I didn't mean it like that.” He hurried to say.

“You worry that I have stolen it, that its true owners will come after you, is that it?” Loki was quieter, sounded harder-- angry, Steve realized. And probably hurt again.

“No, that's not--”

“You needn't be concerned. It is a purchased rug that I ensorcelled myself, but if you don't want it...” Loki made to take it back, but Steve still wouldn't let go.

“About earlier,” he said, and Loki's mouth twisted downwards.

“I am  _ trying  _ to make amends!” the words came out of him in a rush, and Steve shook his head, catching the rug as Loki let go to step backwards, away from him. 

But he wasn't going to let go of this that easily; he followed.

“I know you are, and I appreciate it, really! This is... this is really thoughtful, and I'm grateful. I wanted to apologize. I didn't realize-- there was nothing wrong with your first... gift?” He wasn't sure if that was the right word for it, and he had no way of telling if he'd offended Loki all over again. He'd just gone still, the only part of him that was moving was his hair, shaken loose from whatever product normally held it against his skull, and now it was moving around his head, tangling in front of his face, making his already expressionless eyes even more unreadable.

“Then-- it is me.” He spoke softly, and his eyes drifted down to the carpet. “I understand, of course.” His tone was lighter when he looked back up, a grin plastered onto his face, but it was strained; Loki was trying to laugh it off. “After all, who celebrates their birth with their enemy? How foolish of me. I'll take it back and leave you to your feasting.” He put his hands out again, this time to receive his gift, and Steve felt that same unpleasant twinge in his chest as he'd experienced earlier.

“I was afraid that there were... people, behind your wall. I thought... after all that time, I was afraid you were hurting people again. Killing them. In my name.” It was hard to say, especially to his face-- and doubly so because he knew that it showed a lack of faith, a lack of trust. But then again, this was  _ Loki _ . He had no real reason to trust him.

Save that he got the feeling that he wanted him to.

“I would not, not if I meant to be honest in my celebration. But you had no way of knowing that.” Loki inclined his head. “I apologize.” He still sounded so woebegone, Steve wasn't sure how the hell he was supposed to fix it. 

“Don't be sorry. You did everything right. And this--” he hefted the carpet, “Really, you didn't have to. You don't, still, and... if you want it back, I will return it to you, but... can I ask for something? A request?”

Loki looked like he was bracing to be yelled at, or hit, or hell, like he thought Steve might push him off the roof without the carpet. 

But even so, he nodded, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. 

“You may  _ ask _ .” He said, obviously implying that Steve might not get what he wanted.

“I just want a straight answer-- just tell me why. Why you aren't... you know. Doing the random murders and violence thing any more. Why all of this. That's it.”

Steve watched Loki's lips twist upwards, but it was another mask. He could tell, because the expression didn't meet his eyes. 

They still looked sad, maybe scared. 

Lonely.

“Because you let me go. You trusted me to do the right thing, gave me my life, even knowing that I could use it to take others'. I have thought often of that.” Loki told him, steadily and quietly. It had the air of a confession.

“It's not like I could hold you if I did manage to catch you.” He objected.

“You might have killed me. Or tried. But you didn't. You just...” Loki flapped his hands. “I could not repay you by breaking that faith. And I haven't had a proper means or time to thank you, until now.”

“How'd you know? About today, I mean?” He asked. Behind him, another fireworks display began-- it must be nearly midnight by now; those should be the last of them.

“By watching you.” Loki shrugged.

“You want to--” Steve stopped, not entirely sure if he might be stepping wrong. Barking up the wrong tree. “Instead of watching from the outside, you want to come in? Celebrate with the rest of my friends? We've got a cake.” He knew he came off as too earnest. Inwardly, he sighed, certain he'd already lost the chance.

“Friends, Steve Rogers? Is that what we are?” Loki was speaking lowly again. He looked tempted, and started to step forward. Steve's heart leaped hopefully, but then Loki stopped short and shook his head.

“No, I think it's better that I not. Your friends have even less reason to trust me than you have.” He paused, then smiled. “Perhaps next year. Happy Birthday, Captain.”

Loki finished his step inwards, brushed his lips over Steve's cheek, then stepped over and away and was gone.

Bemused, but feeling lighter, Steve took his rug downstairs to face his friends, hoping that there weren't any cameras, or that at least they hadn't been watching that last part.

But he had a smile that wouldn't budge from his face all through cake, which he ate cross legged, hovering a few feet from the ground, gratified by Tony's squirming and the way Pepper shot him a series of glances forbidding him from poking at Steve's present.

It looked like it might shape up to be an interesting year. Not many hundred-year-old men could say as much. 

 


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, now Steve has a pet carpet. Things could be weirder, I suppose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to [BigScienceyBrain](http://archiveofourown.org/users/BigSciencyBrain/pseuds/BigSciencyBrain), whose fault it is that it even exists, enabler that she is.  
> Enjoy!

He hadn't expected to actually use the thing, when Loki gave it to him. 

It was thoughtful, but not practical, he figured. Because sure, he couldn't fly and this carpet was definitely one way to fix it. But on the other hand... what was he supposed to do with the thing once he got _to_ a fight? 

It turned out, he should have known better. Loki was, if nothing else, incredibly thorough. 

The night he'd been given it, he'd kept it close as a point of pride-- after all, Tony wanted to play with it, Bruce was obviously curious, and Thor couldn't keep his eyes off of it. And if Steve couldn't have Loki at the party, this was just as good. 

When he'd gotten up to head to bed, it had swooped in and out and through his legs, like an affectionate cat, all the way back to his room, and when he'd settled down, it had circled and then sunk onto the floor, laying flat like any other two foot by three foot area rug. 

But when Steve woke up, it had draped itself over him and one corner had snuggled up to his face. 

And that was how they had slept ever since which... was maybe a little weird, given that an ex-super villain had gifted it to him as transportation, but it was so soft, it might as well just be another blanket. 

And it wasn't like he was waking up next to a motorcycle; the carpet was really much closer to a pet. 

And it hadn't remained 'the carpet' for long; Tony had dubbed it 'Ralph' after about a day of it zooming merrily around, investigating everything and knocking much of what it came across to the floor. It was a jerk about it, too, like a poorly behaved cat-- it would make sure you were watching, would scoot an object around to get your attention and then wait for you to say no before knocking it to the floor. Unless you were Steve-- he was the only one whose 'No' seemed to mean anything. 

It was absolutely loyal and obedient, but only to him. No one but Steve was allowed to touch it, and if anyone else tried, it would just fly off. They discovered this when Tony had finally asked if he could just run his hands over it, and Steve had nodded his approval. 

Ralph had shivered, then swerved, and then hovered at ceiling level until Tony clipped on the Iron Man boots. 

Pepper had come home to her boyfriend flying overhead and all of his friends cackling as he tried to snag the wayward carpet. 

When he finally gave up and landed on the couch, Ralph came dropping into Steve's lap, seemingly pleased with itself. It snuggled up to Steve's neck and just hung out there, causing Pepper to coo adoringly at it, and making Tony scowl. 

But Steve thought it was... well it was _weird_ having a normally inanimate object that tried to follow you everywhere. Ralph didn't like to be left at home, so when Steve went out for runs, he rolled it up and put it into a poster tube, slung across his back. 

He didn't _think_ Ralph needed to breathe, but just in case, he left the lid off of one end. And the first few times, he'd felt almost cruel, coaxing the little thing in there. But Ralph seemed content as long as it got to stay close. It even let Steve put some papers and a bag of pencils in with it, so they could go to the park. He'd lay Ralph out, take out his supplies, and sit on his carpet while doing figure studies and nature drawings. 

And it wasn't... _exactly_ less lonely. He didn't make too much of a habit of talking to it, but it was still nice having some kind of companionship. Something that obviously had moods and could cotton on to Steve's. It didn't take long for Steve to get used to it, and then to outright enjoy having it around.

When they would get back from going out, Steve made a point of cleaning Ralph off. He learned that it liked the little hand held vacuum all right, but Ralph positively quivered at the feeling of being swept off with a broom. And it liked the old fashioned straw bristled kind even better than it liked the plastic ones. 

He felt a little ridiculous at having a section of his broom cupboard devoted to all these different brooms, but he supposed most pet owners got to buy toys for their pets; his just had different tastes. 

Speaking of tastes, as much as it loved being cleaned, it turned out that a steam cleaner was very much on the short list of things Ralph was very opposed to. 

It had hovered above the ceiling fan in Steve's sitting room until he had taken the steam cleaner all the way out of his suite. And Ralph didn't seem to like water, either. 

It would follow Steve into the bathroom, but threw an absolute fit if he so much as dripped on it, wringing itself out and rubbing itself against the carpeting and towels or coats or any other available fabric to try and get the water off. 

He had laughed at that discovery for a good ten minutes, while it kept its antics up, looking like nothing more than a cat scooting over carpeting, though it was a good deal less distressing for him, as the proud owner. 

 

All of this was very well and good, of course, until a call came in. 

Doombots, of course. 

 

Steve hadn't spent much time actually _riding_ Ralph, other than short trips around his rooms. One, he was getting tired of hearing that Disney song, when he tried to go to a shared floor that way, and two, he didn't want anyone they were against to know to expect it. At least for a little while, Ralph could be his secret weapon. 

But when Doom decided now was a good time to launch an attack, Steve couldn't convince Ralph to stay behind. It wouldn't be coaxed into its carrier, either, and so he'd showed up in the quinjet with his shield on one arm and Ralph tucked under the other. 

Natasha and Clint had exchanged a look, but no one said anything. 

And once they neared the dropping point, when he normally would have had to stay behind with Nat and Clint and wait for the jet to be set down or lowered to close enough, Ralph ended up sweeping his legs out from under him and catching him, then taking off out the door after Tony. 

Steve held on for dear life, wondering if Ralph could tell the difference between playtime and a fight, but it seemed that Loki's gift was totally prepared for this sort of thing. 

He dodged around shots and got up close enough that Steve could take the bots out with his shield. If he threw it, Ralph made a point of getting him into position to catch it. 

And through it all, Ralph maneuvered like a dream. 

By the time they were almost done, Steve was laughing gleefully, smashing the bots up with almost as much enjoyment as the Hulk below them, and he couldn't wait to see Tony's face when he realized exactly how intelligent little Ralph really was-- 

When suddenly Ralph got stuck. 

They were surrounded, five bots covering them, three at their sides, one above, and one below, and Steve knew it was his fault. He'd been too wrapped up in his gloating. 

“Hey Tony?” He said into his comm, hoping his friend was nearby enough to bail him out. 

“Coming Cap, I see you.” Came back. 

He saw the lights of the Doombots' aims all turn on then, and closed his eyes, bracing for the shots, but that just meant he didn't see what Ralph did next. 

He felt him fall away from beneath him, and felt himself begin to plummet, before he felt Ralph wrapping around him, or at least his head and torso. 

He heard the blasts go off but didn't feel them, and hit the ground way more gently than he should have from that height.

But once he unrolled from Ralph's coverage, he could see the damage it had taken. 

Tony brought the last of the Doombots crashing down, save for the one that Nat rode to the ground before hopping off, but Steve was preoccupied with Ralph, and the way it was fluttering, clearly trying to get up and failing to. There were holes straight through the carpeting, and inside of them was a netting of green glowing light-- Loki's magic, he could only assume. 

Steve scooped it into his arms and looked to Thor, approaching and dragging a mostly intact but obviously fried Doombot with him. 

“Do you know where to find Loki?” He asked, and Thor heaved out a sigh, but nodded. 

“You really think that's a good idea, Cap?” Clint asked, folding his bow up as he came to a stop. “I mean, he's just a carpet. Maybe we could take him to a... a rug shop, get him repaired there?” 

Steve fought hard not to glare at him. 

“It's a magic carpet, Clint. You take it to a magic person to get fixed. Besides... it might be good for Steve to have another chance to talk to Loki when they aren't standing on opposite sides of a fight. You could invite him over for movie night or something.” Natasha said, switching her attention from Clint to Steve midway through. 

He wasn't sure that was a great idea, judging from the way she said it and the look in her eyes, and he knew she had a score to settle with the guy, her and Clint both. 

He frowned. 

“I just want my-- I need to take care of Ralph. I'll worry about the rest of it later.”

As he spoke, he felt raindrops begin to hit him, and his eyes widened, well aware of how Ralph felt about getting wet. 

But his carpet was just laying in his arms, shivering, unable to do any more than that. He pushed it to his chest and leaned over it, while Thor typed clumsily with his overlarge fingers on the keypad of his Starkphone. 

“The address is en route.” He reported, a moment before Steve's phone chimed. 

It was halfway across town, and Steve sighed. 

“I hate to ask, but would you mind giving me a ride?” He was looking at Thor, afraid that Tony might try to take advantage of the situation to get a look at Loki's magic inside of Ralph's wounds, try to figure out how it worked. 

Thor nodded solemnly. 

“I will. But I will not join you inside. My brother will be less inclined to help with me present, as I think we both know.”n Steve nodded and stepped in close, gratified for Ralph's sake to find that Thor had a halo of dryness around him. 

Once he sat them down in front of the brown brick building, though, he took off, and took the protection from the rain with him. 

Steve rang the buzzer for the apartment in the address Thor had sent, and despaired when no answer came through the speaker. After a couple of minutes, he turned away.

Ralph was vibrating woefully in his hands and he felt tears welling in his eyes, afraid that he was going to have to walk back to the tower, unable to so much as keep his carpet dry, let alone save it, when the door was pulled open behind him.

“Captain?” Loki asked, concern in his voice at the sight of Steve's back and bowed head, and when he turned, he saw the way the man-- clad in the most human looking clothing he had ever seen on him-- took in the situation with a glance. 

Then, to his surprise, Loki started to laugh. 

Steve bristled, hurt and anger clashing inside of him for dominance, until Loki stepped aside. 

“Come in, then,” He said, sounding altogether too jovial. “Let's see what you have done to my gift.”

And Steve felt the anger fade into embarrassment, as he realized it was completely true; Loki had given him Ralph and he had utterly failed to take care of it. 

Once they were in Loki's apartment, cleaner and more mundane looking than Steve might have expected, if he was honest, though he wasn't paying it a whole lot of attention, given that Ralph was struggling weakly to acknowledge Loki, even though his back was to Ralph and Steve both. 

Steve rubbed his hand over it, trying to get it to calm down, to relax and save its energy. 

“You should put her on the table.” Loki said, gesturing, and Loki moved to obey, though his mouth moved of its own accord. 

“Her?” He asked. 

Loki hummed in the affirmative. 

“Do you see how delicate the pattern on her? And have you not noted her jealousy? I daresay she won't let you out of her sight. The females are known to be much better at minding their humans.” 

He came to stand on the other side of the table from Steve, and stretched his hand out over the largest of the holes. 

“Oh, Captain-- she's positively in tatters. What did this?” He asked, and though the words all but dripped disapproval, his tone was mild and unconcerned. Steve wasn't sure how to react. 

“Doombots.” He reported gruffly, and then, “Please-- it-- uh-- _she_ doesn't like to be wet.” 

Loki's eyes flicked up to his and he looked surprised for a moment before his expression smoothed, and he nodded. 

He crossed his hands over her and then spread them outwards, and Steve could see a dry spot form and then spread. 

She stopped shivering, and Loki stroked over the corner that Steve had come to think of as her 'head', the corner that was usually closest to his shoulder or neck.

“Alright, little one, alright.” Loki soothed her, his voice softer and gentler than Steve had ever heard it before. “Be still now, and I will have you back to caring for your master in no time.” 

Steve flushed and opened his mouth to object to being called her master, but she let out a soft noise in response to Loki, and Steve jerked, surprised. 

Loki raised an brow, then shook his head. 

“You really should try speaking to her more, Captain. She will not respond to you if you do not.” Again, the chastisement was gentle, and Loki didn't spare much time for it, too busy putting his attention towards the holes in her. 

As he worked, his incredibly graceful hands nearly flying, making gestures that looked like he was sewing her back together, Steve couldn't help but speak. 

“You said the females are better at minding their humans?” He prompted, hoping to learn more of her while he had her creator here. 

“Yes. I chose to make her for that reason. I am sure that had you not been in danger, she would not be in the shape she is. And male carpets are known to be faster, more aggressive, but... they do not bond as readily to an owner, and they can be temperamental. I thought you could use the companionship.” Loki's shoulders moved in what might have been a shrug, and he glanced up before moving on to the next hole, leaving Steve free to reach in and run his fingers over the repair he'd just finished. 

It was like it had never been there, and as the fibers moved under his touch, she gave a little shudder, and Steve froze. 

“Am I-- does that hurt her?” He asked, and Loki smiled and looked up at him. 

“She doesn't feel hurts, Captain. There is nothing to _be_ hurt. She is just responding to your touch. The magic inside of her was made for you, and she knows no one else.” 

“She knows you,” he pointed out, words quiet. 

Loki's lips twisted, and the smile he'd had slid from his face. 

“She is me, to an extent. This--” He tapped at the glowing lines within her, “which makes her live, is me. Part of me. It's-- she's-- I am not spying on you through her!” He hastened to assure Steve, his mind obviously leaping to try to answer the questions he imagined Steve might have, forcing him to stop his repairs. 

“I wasn't going to accuse you of that.” Steve told him, shaking his head. “I was just curious, how she-- I mean. I want to be sure I'm doing this right, taking good care of her. Aside from, you know, getting her all shot up.” He tried not to sound as shaken up by that as he was, then added softly, “She saved my life today.” 

“Good.” Loki muttered, the word sharper than Steve expected, and he stayed quiet, letting Loki get back to work. 

Soon, he had her mended, and she was up and about, doing a circuit of Loki's dining room and miraculously leaving every dish where it sat on its shelves, for once. 

“Thank you.” Steve told him, watching her go. 

“It is my pleasure.” Loki demurred. Steve moved his eyes downwards, only to find Loki watching him. 

He wasn't sure what else to say, but he didn't need to say anything, when she cozied up to him like usual. He just laughed and stroked her. 

“I'm glad to see you too.”

When he could finally see past her again, Loki had a fond smile tugging at his lips on one side of his face. Seeing Steve had caught him watching again, he looked down, then back up, his expression again unreadable. 

“What do you call her?” He asked, and it was Steve's turn to look down, embarrassed. 

“I um. Didn't realize she was a she. We've been calling her-- Ralph?” He sounded sheepish, and it seemed Loki found that hilarious. 

His laughter now did not inspire any feeling of humiliation or anger. Just a sort of awe. 

None of the others-- maybe only Thor-- would believe this. That Loki was kind and gentle and quiet, that he laughed the way windchimes sounded. 

Steve looked away, just in time to see Ralph detach from him and float over to Loki, nudging at him with her head. 

Loki reached down to stroke along the pattern of knotwork that ran along her outside edge, and she shivered and made a sound like purring. 

“You should probably be getting back to your friends.” Loki said suddenly. “They will think I've done something to you, if you stay gone too much longer.” 

Steve had a phone, and he pulled it out to send off a text, but Loki took it from his hands. 

“If you have any further questions about her-- my number.” He handed it back, the number typed into a contact in Steve's phone, but the name left empty. Steve filled in the Loki line, and when he looked up, they were outside of the Avengers Tower, without his even being aware they had moved. 

Loki held an umbrella over them and then gestured at the door with it. 

“Keep her dry, and tell me what you decide to call her, now that you know better.” He was smirking again as he handed the umbrella over to Steve, the expression gentle on his face. Steve couldn't help but smile back, and, remembering the way he'd parted last time, stepped in and pressed a quick kiss to the side of his face. 

“Thanks, Loki.” He told him, amused by how startled he looked. Loki nodded once more, then stepped sideways and disappeared, once again leaving Steve alone to explain to his friends as best as he could how his life had become somehow more complicated, just from spending an hour alone with their resident not-quite-a-villain-anymore. 

Around his shoulders, Ralph resettled herself, and let out a whuffing noise, like fabric being unrolled. 

“Alright, let's go inside.” Steve said to her, feeling foolish, but taking Loki's advice to heart. “But you get to help us pick out your new name.” He told her, mock sternly. She cooed and he reached up to run his hand over her again, oddly glad to have her in his life. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What even do you name a female rug?


	3. Three

It had been a year, and Steve hadn't seen hide nor hair of Loki. He'd even tried going back to the apartment that he'd found him at before, but an old lady lived there now. An old lady who smoked enough that he spent days trying to get his carpet to stop smelling like a Las Vegas casino.

 

That didn't mean that Loki wasn't around, though. He answered all of Steve's texts, unless they were invitations to meet or questions about his whereabouts, in which case Steve had found himself casually ignored.

 

Not seeing Loki made those few times he had spent time with him feel less real as the time went past, and Steve wondered if Loki was even on earth- if he cell phone somehow had transplanetary reception.

Maybe he could ask for that for his next birthday.

 

Which... got him to thinking. He had no idea when Loki's birthday was, or even what he could get him. What did you get a guy who'd given you a magic carpet?

 

And he knew he'd missed it. He had already missed Loki's birthday, he must have, because his own was nearly upon him. And there wasn't any guarantee that he'd see Loki for his birthday, but he got the feeling his chances were slightly higher then than any other time. Even if he was trying not to get his hopes up.

 

But he had two options as he saw it-- go ask Thor when Loki's birthday was, or text Loki himself, and hope he got an answer. Either way, he'd probably have to ask Thor about his brother's tastes and interests to try and figure something out. So he might as well keep the surprise intact, he reasoned.

 

“C'mon Ralph.” He said, patting his thigh. “Let's go see Thor.”

 

She darted around him as he walked, trilling in her weird little sing-song way. Since he'd been talking to her more, she'd gotten slowly more vocal, and now he could tell what sort of mood she was in based on her noises. Which was often a source of amusement. He hadn't known that carpets could be lazy, but she was good at begrudgingly doing what was asked of her, particularly if it resembled a chore. This on the other hand, visiting one of the others, she didn't mind.

 

So she was excitingly zooming down the hall, eager to get to Thor's room and annoyed by Steve's calm walking pace.

Finally she gave up and ran ahead when he was within line of sight of Thor's door.

She bumped against it a few times, then rolled herself up and hit the door like a bat, obviously unimpressed with her own knocking.

 

Thor answered the door as she unrolled, and Steve stepped forward.

 

“Sorry about that. She was really happy to hear we were coming to see you.”

 

“Were that her maker was equally as joyous to see me. Well, come in little Knutr, friend Steve.”

Thor reached out, as if to pet her, and she ducked and dodged it, refusing to be touched.

She also had refused to be renamed, despite everyone in the tower picking out a different name for her. But she only answered to Ralph, so Ralph it had stayed, as far as Steve was concerned.

 

He had a hard time trying to discourage the others from calling her other things, though.

 

“It's actually her 'maker' that I'm here to talk to you about.” Steve said, getting right to it. Thor's eyebrows rose.

 

“Is it something I will want a drink for? I do have yet some wine from Vanaheim.”

 

“I hope not.” Steve said, unable to keep from sounding at least a little concerned. A drunk Thor was a news-making Thor, and Pepper was still cleaning up after Tony's last escapade.

“I was just wondering... when Loki's birthday is, and what sort of gifts you give on Asgard.”

 

Thor sat, stroking his beard.

 

“I am unsure that our dates fully translate between realms. Your concept of a year differs from ours. But... Loki was born at the start of the spring. Or at least, he was brought to Asgard when the Jotnar had been finally driven from the land, and the sun had returned. I remember this much. And it is around the time of the melt that we have always celebrated. In reality... he is, as you know, not truly my brother. I have no idea when he was truly born nor how old he was when he was presented to me as my kin.”

 

Steve nearly groaned.

Bad enough their calendars didn't synch up, but not actually knowing the date... he knew Loki well enough now to know that he wouldn't like that, much.

 

“What about gifts? Clearly that's a tradition, but... is he expecting something magical? I can't exactly do giant lights in the sky or flying carpets.”

Steve wasn't great at subtlety, he knew that, so he went for the obvious, before Thor could get the words out for the question that was growing on his face.

“I feel bad, since he got me such a good gift last year, and I'm worried he'll do something for me again this year, and if I haven't even tried...”

 

Thor nodded.

 

“Not every gift need be magical in origin. My brother may have chosen yours to be that way as he sees his power as the best he has to offer. But Loki has ever been enamored with books, the more dangerous, the better, and he has always enjoyed personalized gestures far more than ones to showcase wealth or power. Loki is a man of words. Perhaps you might write him a song, or some poetry?”

Thor seemed to warm to the idea while he talked, and Steve found himself balking, but he nodded just the same.

 

“Huh, yeah, alright. I'll have to think on that.”

 

There was no way in hell that Steve could write poems or songs that Loki would consider worthwhile. He could write a speech, a card, could file reports, but setting something to music, making it rhyme?

No way.

 

...And that was how Steve found himself in the park, sitting on Ralph, as was their custom, though instead of figure studies and pictures of dogs, this time he was trying to string together words.

 

Everything sounded hopelessly dumb, though; he didn't know Loki all that well, didn't really know his intentions, and didn't know how he felt about this whole... relationship, he supposed, of not being enemies, but not really fully friends either. They texted one another, sometimes, but... that wasn't really much.

Only it had to be enough because that was what he'd been given. And he didn't want to seem ungrateful.

 

_ You gave me wings _

no

_ you said maybe next year _

ugh

 

He ended up packing Ralph up and returning to the tower with a bag full of crumpled up attempts.

 

Loki wasn't getting songs or poetry, that was for damn sure.

 

If Loki was playing to his strengths, Steve figured he out to play to his.

He got back out the colored pencils. Thing was, he hadn't  _ seen _ Loki in so long, and the only pictures he had of him, the only ones he could find that were worth a damn, were photos from SHIELD and usually of him mid-attack.

Which wasn't the sort of thing Steve wanted to give him at all.

 

His desk was cluttered with discarded failures when Natasha came looking for him, and he couldn't stop her from lifting one up and arching her eyebrow.

 

“Someone's getting a little obsessed.” She observed dryly.

 

Steve flushed and muttered something about not having good references.

 

“You know, from what Thor's said, that's not even his real body, and he might not like the reminder. These aren't bad, though. Mind if I hang on to one?”

She picked up one that Steve had done from Ralph's point of view, of Loki leaning over as if to heal the viewer.

It must have looked like something else, though, because Nat smirked, and Steve could feel himself flushing as deep as a flush could go, without her even saying a word.

 

“Maybe not that one,” she murmured, playing demure. Steve would have laughed if it wasn't so uncomfortable.

 

“Did you come here for a reason in the first place?” He asked, “or did you just come to laugh at me?”

 

“No, of course. Pepper wanted to know what kind of cake you want.”

 

He thought for a moment.

“Carrot? They still make carrot cake, right? With cream cheese icing?”

 

“Yeah, carrots haven't gone extinct yet.” she told him, and she was definitely laughing at him again.

 

She left him be after that, and he gathered all the Loki images and put them in a drawer, unable to bring himself to throw any of them away, even though none of them was quite right.

Laying in bed that night, he found himself trying to remember what Loki had looked like on the rooftop , but all Steve could remember was the loneliness, the sadness in his face. The way he'd tried to smile when he thought Steve was declining his gifts.

He also remembered the look on his face when he'd invited Loki in, and Loki had said  _ maybe next year _ .

 

Ralph made a little keening noise when Steve rolled over, and he stilled, wondering if she was just objecting to the movement or if she knew what he was thinking about. Who.

He just wished he knew if Loki was even actually planning on coming.

Steve found himself with his phone in hand, making the call before he had a chance to chicken out.

 

The phone rang, and Steve realized with a start that he'd never called before, only texted. He didn't know why he didn't do that now, but--

 

“Captain? Are you alright?”

Loki's voice sounded rough, and Steve realized he must have woken him.

 

“Oh, shoot, I didn't see the time, Loki, I'm sorry. I'm fine. I can... call you back some other time. Sorry.”

 

“It's no matter, Captain. I am awake now.” Steve could hear the amusement in his voice and closed his eyes, letting his mind paint pictures of Loki's softly smirking mouth.

 

“I wanted to talk to you about... well, it's my birthday again soon. And I was hoping I would get to see you.”

He held his breath, afraid Loki would just hang up or refuse to answer, like all of the texts about seeing him.

 

Loki didn't speak right away and it was the most agonizing couple of seconds Steve had had since waiting for Loki to open the door when Ralph had been hurt.

 

“I don't know that would be wise.” Loki said finally, his voice far away sounding, and Steve nearly dropped the phone.

 

“Oh. Uh, but why? I haven't seen you in months, and... nothing bad has happened the last few times we saw one another, right?”

 

“Bad enough.”

 

Steve didn't know how to answer that, aside from repeating, “Oh.”

He tried to search his memory, tried to remember what had happened that Loki would find bad. He had no idea, though.

“Alright, I... I'm sorry for bothering you.” He managed to keep his voice pretty even. “I hope you're doing okay and I-- is it still okay if I text you, or... is that bad too?”

 

Loki sighed and he swore he could hear him running his hand down his face.

“As we have been is... fine.” Loki allowed, and he sounded so exhausted suddenly that Steve thought that was mostly a lie.

 

“Okay. I'll uh, talk to you over text, then. Sometimes.”

He didn't know what else to say, so he just fumbled with the phone and hung it up before staring down at it in his hand for a minute.

 

Ralph made an inquisitive cooing noise, and he remembered what Loki had said about her being partly him.

 

Steve scooped her up and buried his face in her, swallowing while she squirmed against him, making him feel guilty, even while he took comfort from the slight rug burn he was getting.

 

“I know, I'm sorry. There you go.” He released her, letting her twist and turn midair to smooth her rumpled pile. She settled over his legs when she was done, though.

 

“Hrrr?”

 

It was as close as she could get to asking him anything, and he just shook his head.

 

“I messed something up with Loki. He doesn't want to see me.”

She cooed regretfully and flew up to press her head under his chin. He stroked her in response.

 

“I probably asked for too much, bothered him too much. I shouldn't have kept inviting him out when he made it plain he was just going to ignore me. I was too pushy.”

Calling had probably crossed that line.

 

“Krrr.” She told him, which he wasn't entirely sure the meaning of, but the tone of it made him smile anyway. She'd been hanging out with Natasha too much, and he got the feeling he was being gently mocked.

 

“You're right. And if nothing else, I have you, don't I?”

Steve settled himself into the bed, scritching his carpet.

“You're still the best present ever, even if I don't get to see him again.”

He wondered if she wanted to see him, too, though-- she'd certainly been excited enough the last time she had seen him.

 

Ralph shuddered and made a quiet purring sound, and Steve stroked her as his eyes closed, thinking about what he could possibly have done.

 

Damn Loki and his smile, and his brittle, pretty laugh.

Steve was going to dream of them, he just knew it.

 

O0o0o0o0o0o0o

 

His birthday dawned bright and clear and he tried not to let the disappointment of not getting to see Loki bother him. After all, his friends were trying their best to give him a great day.

Clint grilled hot dogs and burgers, Bruce had set up a projector and screen to show off some of Steve's favorite movies, and they'd spent the whole day on the roof, under the shade pavilion that Tony had ordered built. It was great, taking some time together to relax, no sparring, no training, nothing terrible happening. (except for when Thor and Clint had decided to try and play darts. That had been nearly a tragedy)

 

His presents were nice- art supplies and button down shirts, for the most part, although Natasha had found some work out tees with horrible sayings printed on them, so naturally Steve was now the proud owner of _ all of them _ . And for Steve's part, he doesn't forget that Ralph was born on his birthday, too. He got her a tiny crank handle car wash- for a little girl to be able to clean her Barbie cars, probably. But Ralph is delighted to zoom back and forth through it, receiving scratches from all sides.

 

(Steve broke the tiny water pump off before he wrapped it.)

 

Suppertime came and the steaks were brought out, along with corn on the cob and kebab skewers full of veggies, five different types of salad, potatoes and two kegs of beer.

 

And when it was over, Thor and Pepper disappeared and returned with a truly monstrous carrot cake- enough to feed twice their number if there weren't a super soldier and a Norse God among them.

 

And it was  _ good _ .

Steve laughed and had fun, and only thought of Loki about once an hour or so.

 

They all kick ed back and chatted until the night air got a little cold, and then Tony smirked and pressed a button, raising a twelve seat hot tub out of the top of the roof.

 

The party broke up to go and change into bathing suits, and Natasha quietly placed a bet with Steve and Clint in the elevator about whether Tony will come back in a speedo or board shorts.

 

But the second that Steve stepped into his room, he froze-- as did the other person already there.

 

Loki was the last person he expected to see, and yet there he was, black button down shirt and black slacks, hair cut since the last time Steve had seen him and styled back.

He looked like the bad guys from all of the 80s action films that Natasha and Tony enjoyed bringing to movie nights, missing only the gaudy gold chains and a few less buttons done up.

 

And he wasn't sure why he was distracted by that.

 

The tense moment of silence was broken by Ralph darting forward, a rumbling and excited trill the only warning that Loki got before he was tackled by the carpet.

 

“Yes, hello to you too.” He said, petting her with a smile. His face went much more neutral when he looked to Steve again, and that... stung. But he knew he'd done something to deserve it, so he swallowed, trying to hide his reaction.

 

“Captain.” Loki said in greeting, curt as it was. Steve nodded.

“Loki.” He returned, matching his tone.

 

Loki looked surprised and a little wary and he stepped away from Ralph, looking for all the world as casual as possible, though Steve got the impression he was expecting a fight.

 

Steve nodded at the package that he'd caught Loki leaving on his bed.

 

“Is that for Ralph?” He asked, trying to figure out exactly what was going on here.

 

“I-- no. It's for you.” Loki looked honestly confused about why he would think otherwise.

 

Steve huffed, and he saw that same expression come over Loki's face again, the one where he thought he was being rejected. Only it was the other way around, wasn't it?

“Look, maybe we should talk about where you sit as far as I'm concerned. Because if you dislike me enough that you don't want to see me, you really don't have to bring gifts. You don't... owe me or anything.”

 

“I do.” Loki said, “but that isn't why I bring gifts, nor why... it isn't that I don't want to see you. It is only that... it gets worse each time I do.”

Loki looked so uncomfortable, Steve had to blink to try and make sense of what he was saying.

 

“Whatever  _ it _ is, just let me know and I can try and fix it. I can't know what I'm doing wrong if you don't tell me, and on top of that-- you can hardly say 'each time', we've only been around one another, what? Three times? Total, since you stopped fighting against us?”

 

Loki looked pained.

“Each time I talk to you, be it in person or over the phone, via texts...” He shook his head. “I should go. I'm sorry. I won't... do this, any more.”

 

He moved to step away and Steve grabbed him.

 

“Wait. I don't understand, and I want to.”

 

Ralph seemed to take this as Steve attacking Loki, and she was visibly torn on how to react to it. She ended up hovering next to where they were touching, shaking and keening.

 

Steve let go of Loki, and Loki reached for her, running a soothing hand along her edge.

 

Steve lowered his voice, keeping it calm for Ralph's sake.

“Look, whatever I'm doing wrong... I'm sorry, and I genuinely did not mean to. Can you just tell me what it is, give me the chance to make it up to you?”

 

Loki laughed, but it wasn't like wind chimes this time, but something bitter and sharp, like breaking glass.

“You? Doing wrong? It is against your nature. No, Captain, it is I who is wrong, as always.”

 

Steve paused, then shook his head.

“I don't get it. You give me gifts, we make jokes. You kissed me--” Loki winced, and Steve leaped on it.

“Is that it? Do you... is it that you regret kissing me, because I kissed you back? Or is it that you want to do it again?”

He hardly dared hope, but...

 

“ _ Yes.  _ Damn you, yes. I want it, but not when you give it out of obligation. I would have repaired your  _ Ralph _ either way, and you thought to give me what I want as  _ payment _ .”

 

Steve frowned, then shook his head.

“That isn't why-- Damnit Loki, stop trying to run away. I wanted to kiss you too, is that so hard to believe?”

 

Loki held very still, and Steve wasn’t sure he was even breathing. In a couple of strides, Steve crossed the room to his desk and pulled out his drawings. 

 

“I don’t know when your birthday is, and I didn’t know what to get you, but I haven’t stopped thinking about you for the last year, so… happy belated.” 

He handed Loki the folder and waited, tips of his ears flushing pink with embarrassment. 

 

It felt a little like a child, asking to have his crayon drawings stuck on the fridge. 

 

Loki opened the folder and sat it on the edge of the bed, the papers from within held in trembling hands. 

He shuffled through them, his facial expression not changing, and Steve remembered what Natasha had said, about how Loki might be anything but flattered. 

 

“They’re not much good, no where near as good looking as the real thing.” He offered, still embarrassed and nervous. 

Loki silently set the drawings back in their folder and closed it, returning it to the foot of Steve’s bed, and Steve felt a cold flush start in his chest, a tightness. 

Loki was refusing those, just like he’d thought Steve had refused the fireworks and Ralph, at first. 

 

Loki stepped in closer and Steve didn’t flinch or back away, though it was a near thing. He braced himself for a slap, or some magic. 

 

But apparently that wasn’t what Loki was planning, nor did Ralph have the patience to wait for them to talk it through, because Steve found himself launched towards Loki and found Loki pressed against his chest.

And then they were kissing-- not like before, no sweet, innocent pecks, but lips and tongue and passion and  _ promise _ . 

 

Steve’s hands moved upward, burying his fingers in Loki’s hair at the base of his neck, and Loki melted into the kiss, leaning against Steve. 

 

When they parted, Loki blinked. 

“You want me? Truly?” He sounded so surprised that Steve almost ached, and he held tight to him. 

 

“Really.” He assured him. “And I’d love it if you’d come with me-- I’m putting on swim trunks so that I can go back out with my friends, relax in a hot tub and watch movies. I’d love you to join us. There’s dinner upstairs still, and drinks and carrot cake.”

 

“Well, if there is  _ carrot cake _ .” Loki said, stressing it as if that were truly the selling point. He hesitated, though. “Thor is up there?”

 

“He will be.” Steve answered, honest, even though he knew that would discourage Loki. Lying wouldn’t help either of them. 

 

“I do not have ‘swim trunks’.” 

 

“I have an extra pair. Don’t worry, they’re clean.” 

He moved to his dresser and pulled out two pairs. “Take your pick, you can wear either.”

He was just pretending that Loki had already agreed, just hoping that he would go along with it. 

 

He did. 

“JARVIS, let everyone know that we’re coming upstairs soon, please. Let ‘em know we’ll just be a few minutes.” He instructed, just to give Bruce a chance to get used to the idea. And maybe to be sure Nat and Clint didn’t pull out any hidden weapons the second they stepped foot outside.

They took turns in Steve’s bathroom and Steve handed him a towel, and the three of them went back up to the roof. 

 

Thor was the first to meet them, wrapping Loki in his arms and smashing him against his chest in a delighted hug.

Ralph seemed about as pleased with this as Loki himself was, and she wriggled her way between Loki and Thor, turning sideways to help push them apart. 

 

Thor laughed.

“Knutr, so territorial! It is alright, he is my  _ brother _ .” Thor told her, sounding almost like it was a reprimand, but he was too pleased to be truly angry. 

 

“About time.” Natasha greeted them and Steve wasn’t sure if the money Clint was paying her was because of his arrival with Loki or what, exactly, but it seemed she’d won whatever the bet had been.

 

“Normally I’d say mi casa es su casa, but you threw me out the downstairs window, so… you’ll have to settle for a nice welcome. Ow, Pep, come on, that  _ was _ nice.” Tony had been rather obviously elbowed, and Steve couldn’t help but wonder how a woman in an all white swimsuit could be in the water but remain modest. 

 

Pepper was amazing, though.

“Welcome, Loki. Are you hungry, would you like something to drink?”

 

Loki seemed overwhelmed, but at least remembered his manners.

“No, thank you. I came only to watch a film for Captain Rogers’s Birth Day.” 

 

“And he’s all kitted out for it already, so.” Steve interrupted, not wanting anyone else to give Loki any trouble over it. He held his hand out for Loki’s towel and put theirs together on a lounge chair, before pulling over a barstool for Ralph to settle on, close enough that she could keep an eye on them, but far enough that she wouldn’t be at risk of getting splashed by accident. 

Clint scooted to the other side of the tub when they got in, and Bruce remained where he was outside of the hot water, but otherwise, there was little to no reaction from his teammates, which led Steve to guess that they had talked about this happening. 

 

Which was probably both Natasha’s doing and why she had won the bet with Clint. 

 

But they’d been going with the party for a while, and Steve didn’t really mind when, one by one, his friends begged off to go to bed. 

And by the time the young ingenue had married Max de Winter and returned to Manderly with him, it was just Steve and Loki. 

 

Pepper had probably helped see to that. Subtly. 

 

And even Ralph had gone with Thor, leaving Steve for the first time ever since he’d brought her in after Loki had given her to him a year ago. 

 

Much as Steve liked Hitchcock, when Loki sidled closer to him in the water, he couldn’t feel too bad about shifting his attention away from the screen. 

 

“May I make a request?” Loki asked softly, voice barely audible above the sounds of the jets. 

 

“Sure.” Steve told him, relaxed by the water and pleased by how nice the night had been, just having Loki by him. Though the way he asked did make him a little nervous again. 

 

“May I have another kiss?” 

 

Steve smiled and pulled Loki in, enjoying the way his hands slid over his skin in the water. 

“You can have as many more as you’d like.” He told him. 

 

“I believe I will be taking you up on that offer.” Loki said, leaning in to close the distance between them again.

 

In the sky beyond the tower, fireworks began. 

 

And somehow this birthday had managed to be better than Steve could ever have guessed. 

Natasha was right. 

It was about damn time.


End file.
